


Solace

by KingLoptr (Aestridr)



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Introspection, Loki Needs a Hug, Loki decides he wants to be kept, Some sex happens, Tony decides to keep Loki, light smut idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-17
Updated: 2014-02-17
Packaged: 2018-01-12 19:02:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1196001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aestridr/pseuds/KingLoptr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes he can find Loki hiding in some obscure room in the tower, calmly writing down spells in one of the large dusty journals he brought from ‘home’. Tony always walks in quietly—Loki doesn’t like to be startled or disturbed when reviewing his magic. But he can’t help bringing Loki things he loves, like sweets, or more books, or the occasional obnoxious distraction in the form of relentless flirting (or more obvious affections).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Solace

The once wrathful god looks smaller, thinner in Midgard’s fashion. He lounges cross-legged on the floor, his hair in a loose, messy bun at the nape of his neck, wearing a simple, rather flimsy hooded tunic of some sort, all black. He has on a pair of Tony’s gray sweatpants, but they dont reach far enough for his ridiculously long legs, so he’s bunched them up at his knees. He’s barefoot. Tony found it odd about a month ago, that Loki would want to look so casual, to ‘degrade’ himself by blending into Midgard so. But now he knew the truth. Loki didn’t exactly want to be a god anymore. He didn’t want to be regal. He didn’t want to be ‘Loki’.

Tony approaches with all the caution of an explorer observing a wild animal and slowly sits down, waiting for Loki to break concentration on his work and look up. He didn’t know why Loki still practiced magic when he seemed to abhor being reminded of Asgard in any other circumstance. But now, Tony observes Loki chewing his lip thoughtfully, and watches his green eyes light up with a realization, and he knows suddenly that Loki doesn’t connect magic with Asgard. Just his own identity. And probably a piece of his mother, but his mother was still a connection to his core, and to the love and understanding he wanted, had, and then lost. His magic and his mother’s memory weren’t a link to Asgard, they were his alone—and he, Loki, free-floated from Asgard. He was a separate force all his own by now.

When Tony had let Loki in, he’d chosen against better judgement to accept him, all of him. He accepted the regret and pain, he understood the need to run away and make amends on one’s own. He could make a conscious effort to understand the torrent of emotions held inside someone that could never become what they truly desired, and so would rather accept another calmer, simpler path in life than continue on in bloody confrontation, struggling against a world of rejection just for a taste of “greatness”.

Loki’s gaze flickers, peering at Tony blankly through stringy black strands of unkempt locks. Tony sits across from him and Loki closes his book as Tony speaks, 

“Hey. You need to eat, I think you’ve been in here for—20 hours straight? Wasn’t sure you were alive for a little bit.” Tony hands over the plate of food he brought as offering, and Loki smiles only slightly, just for a second or two, and takes it without a word.

“You wanna come away from the books for a sec, Beautiful?” Tony dares to ask. Sometimes Loki would get snippy when he said such things, but other times—this time—Loki even put down the food to crawl across the floor toward him.

“I grow tired of studying. I only keep doing it to…to hold on. To hold on to what I—”

“Sh, I know already.” Tony murmurs as Loki gets close, and he unbalances the Trickster, lays back and drags him by the shirt until Loki falls over top of him, the food forgotten. He pushes his fingers through Loki’s overgrown and wild black hair as Loki raises his head to look down at him, and they stare for awhile, contemplative, silent, content in their solace and alone in their unity. 

“It’s quiet, here. Midgard is quiet.”

“Yeah. To you, I guess.”

Loki still had trouble getting used to what he’d done. What he’d let himself do. He claimed to have left Asgard for good, and the both of them were merely waiting for the day when Thor would show up, coming for Loki, and they’d have to tell him what they wanted—to stay together here. Tony dreaded the day as much as Loki did, probably more-so if he were honest with himself, but apparently Loki had been hiding his location from any who might find it (Heimdall for certain). So, they were unsure of how long their quiet would last, but they had some space, here and now. It had come with its share of doubts and brutal fights, and mistrust and drama, but…their quiet had come.

Tony places his hand behind Loki’s head, right on his messy hairbun and tugs him down to kiss him, warm, deep, comforting. He’d shut the rest of the world out to get to know the God of Mischief. SHIELD, Pepper, everyone. The repercussions were coming, but not yet. He didn’t want it yet. He didn’t want real life to interrupt this now. He’d push them away until he couldn’t anymore, and then they’d just have to deal with what had changed.

Loki doesn’t want to pull away from their lip-lock and so Tony keeps kissing him, his hands wandering low down Loki’s back, skimming taut planes of muscle, slipping up under flimsy fabric while he feels the heartbeat of a deity, a thousand years against his human skin, and he feels fleeting and weak, and worthy and lucky all at once. And when Loki does move it’s only to bury his face in the crook of Tony’s neck, and there he stays, unmoving.

“You alright?” Tony asks eventually, staring up at the ceiling and wrapping his arms tighter around the god’s waist.

“What if Thor makes me return…” Loki’s voice is muffled and quiet as he speaks the words, breathless against Tony’s skin.

“He won’t. Come on, your brother’s a decent guy. Bit scary overprotective but, if he leaves you anywhere it would be with a friend. And I’m his friend.”

Loki says nothing for a long while, then only begins to kiss Tony’s neck wordlessly, his body cozy and close-pressed to Tony’s from his spot on top. A bit blindsided by the sudden affection, Tony doesn’t know how to react at first, as he’s used to Loki being stand-offish and cold before reluctantly caving in for a few kisses and touches, then never more than that.

The minutes tick by slowly; the summer sun begins to lower and streak through the window, warming their spot on floor tangled in each other’s limbs, and by the time thirty minutes pass they are shirtless and attached at the mouth, breathing in one another and reveling in the pleasure of friction with small thrusts of the hip and wandering hands, and heated lips then find new skin to explore.

Tony rolls until Loki is under him, and Loki smiles, giggles even, and Tony thinks its the most enticing thing he’s ever seen, especially since he truly hadn’t seen Loki look genuinely pleased and happy just yet. He’d make this lost deity even happier, even if it killed him.

Clothes were fluidly discarded at a faster rate now, Tony exposing Loki’s long white legs and exploring the smooth, flawless skin before ridding himself of his own pants, and he laid himself between Loki’s legs, heard Loki hum contentedly while they resumed their slow kissing until it got hard to think and hard to breathe, and hard to function without wanting more, greedy for one another, the both of them like someone deprived of contact for a lifetime.

In another 30 minutes the sunlight in the room was going fiery gold as Tony had Loki panting underneath him, and Tony was all Loki could feel, deep inside him, driving away all thoughts of what he’d done, who he used to be, until nothing remained but the feeling of being stretched and filled, the slow pounding, the pleasure and simplicity of being fucked into a smooth paved floor; it didn’t matter that his hair was wrecked, and that he was underneath a mortal, and that he was a war criminal once upon a time. It didn’t matter that he could be, should be, or used to be a king. He didn’t want to be a conqueror now—he wanted to be vulnerable. He didn’t want to be a hapless royal, he wanted to be a source of reckless and primal pleasure, a chaotic lover, a benevolence on a tiny planet to one person who saw him as exactly what he was. He was a soul lost, and he only wanted a home that accepted him at his most basic elements. Tony Stark could be that home.

He decides he will resign himself to stay here for good, stay on this tiny dirtball of a planet with Stark, because here, he’d been given another chance, and another life.

He pulls Tony into a kiss and begins to meet Tony’s thrusts, uses his hands at Tony’s back to demand harder until he’s seeing stars and his head drops back in abandon. He reminds himself foggily to commend Tony afterward on his stamina, because he keeps being driven to the brink of release and then led infuriatingly gently away from it, the climax building inside him to the point of pain. He lets Tony take control, something he’s done for no one else, not even for Thor. Something about giving everything of himself to someone like Tony, and defying everything anyone ever expected out of him—it only made him want to be fucked even harder.

“Make it hurt.” He hisses against Tony’s ear, and Tony does.

There on the hard, sun-warmed floor Loki is stripped of everything that made him a broken prince, of everything that made him the betrayed son, of everything that made him ‘Loki’, in essence, in identity, in duty. On the floor he was a fallen god, determined never to reclaim a place in the stars, or a seat on a bloodstained throne, and when he reaches his peak, with a human that is nothing but everything, controlling him, it’s a release of the weight of nine realms. It was all gone, and he is explosive, clean, pure, weightless.

He sees white, then a blank, and then, everything at once. He clings to Tony’s torso and swears promises to never stray anywhere away from this new place, these arms of someone who expected little, but could give him the only things he needed, and that turned out to be his true redemption. Tony kisses him on the forehead while breathing deeply, and Loki can feel the warm spend spreading through his insides. He knows he belongs. His arms wrap tight around Tony’s waist and he holds firm, close. 

"I won’t let you go." Tony says before Loki can speak again. "You won’t have to leave."

~~


End file.
